Chapter 10 – The Mysterious Transfer Student – Holly Hayfield

Being back at school was a drag but it at least gave me something to keep my mind focused on. Since changing schools I had seriously considered playing hooky for the first time in my academic history. People skipped class all the time with little repercussion. The thought of being able to do all my homework in the library to avoid people like Black Brittney altogether was quite enticing. The downside of doing that meant risking more headaches like the one from last night.

Last night my stress had built up to a point where I felt like it might boil me from the inside out. That wasn’t the first time it had happened. For that reason alone it was nice for me to be somewhere other than a quiet room by myself thinking about the past and dreading the future. Maybe I was better off in school surrounded by my rowdy classmates. It was hard to get lost in my thoughts when I could hardly hear myself think.

My homeroom class this morning was particularly rowdy. Black Brittney’s group was hanging out in the back corner talking about something deviously with the occasional ominous glare over to me. It looked like Black Brittney found out about what happened with Angelica. That would definitely come back to bite me later on. The question was how bold would they be right after Angelica threatened them? Luckily Candace wasn’t in my homeroom class to stir things up, but Leigha was.

Leigha was sitting closest to Black Brittney, telling her something. Leigha was moving her hands and ranting to Black Brittney animatedly. I couldn’t make out the details and I was too scared to look directly at them, but from the glances I took it looked like they were having a disagreement. Black Brittney would likely be more cautious around me now that she knew about Angelica. Angelica represented ‘Official’ trouble. That probably wouldn’t stop loose cannons like Candace and Leigha though.

The girl sitting in the desk in front of me was having a conversation with the girl in the desk behind me. They talked almost as if I weren’t there. They merely tilted their heads a little to see past me but otherwise didn’t recognize my existence. That was for the best I supposed. The best days for me were the days that I remained invisible. The two girls were talking about a new transfer student that they saw that morning. She had only just transferred in but already had quite the reputation.

“Did you see what she looked like?” The girl behind me asked the girl sitting in front of me.

“She’s got short blonde hair with sparkling blue eyes. She has this kind of punk rock look going on. She’s tall with an athletic build. She’s sexier than anyone else I know of here. I’d like her to get a little rough with me if you know what I’m saying.” The girl in front of me said.

“Damn, lucky you. I didn’t get a look at her. I only know what people have told me. I hear she came from that gaudy private school on the other side of town. It’s the one for the snobby rich kids.”

“You mean East Oak Academy?”

“That’s the one! Her family must be loaded. My friend has the same homeroom class as her. She texted me saying that the transfer student is like a prince. The transfer student is already being swarmed by girls.”

“Maybe I’ll ask her out to lunch. Hell, maybe I’ll ask her out to dinner. There are no guys around here and I’ve been bored as hell. She seems like the best stand-in, you know?”

“Why don’t you just get a boyfriend from another school?”

“That’s too much of a hassle. Besides, the transfer student really is like a prince. I’m more interested in her than a guy from a different school. She has this whole mysterious aura going on.”

“She is mysterious.” I interjected.

The two girls were surprised to hear me speak. They both gawked at me as though a ghostly spirit had manifested from thin air and joined in on their conversation. The girl in front of me arched an eyebrow.

“What was your name again?”

“I’m Holly Hayfield.”

“Alright Holly, what do you know about the new girl that makes her mysterious?”

“The fact that she is a transfer student is what stands out.”

Both of the girls gave me a stupid look. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment. The imbeciles of my homeroom class wouldn’t be able to piece things together. I’d have to spell it out for them. We all went through the same process when we were enrolled here. They should’ve had the same insights I did without me having to tell them.

“Meredith’s School for Troubled Girls isn’t like other schools. Students can’t just come and go as they please. Everyone here has to be processed through the state’s alternative education tuition system in order to be admitted.”

“That’s right, but what about it?”

“The state is strict about this type of thing as funding for such programs is limited. The office that handles these things only operates prior to the start of the school year and in late December when the school year is halfway over. Any student coming here has only those two dates to apply. The fact that she is coming in towards the end of the second week of school is incredibly suspicious.”

“What does all that mean?”

“It means that she has friends in high places. Someone pulled strings in order to get her enrolled here when the enrollment center was already closed.”

The two girls looked at each other in awe. I was more surprised that they didn’t realize this from the beginning. The girl in front of me reached out and rubbed my head as if I were a dog.

“Hey! You’re pretty smart Holly! Maybe you could help me with my homework sometime. We have the same math class, right? Did you finish yesterday’s homework? Let me see it!”

She was already opening the folder on my desk before I could decline her request. She didn’t even need to flip through to find it. Luckily for her my math homework was the top paper in my homework folder. She pulled the paper away and turned back around to copy my answers. How someone could be so shameless was beyond me.

That was what I deserved for opening my stupid mouth. It would’ve been better if I hadn’t said anything and let myself go unrecognized. Now she would probably start asking to copy my homework on a regular basis. The other girl pulled out her own math homework and went to join the girl in front of me. I wasn’t even sure if this other girl had the same teacher I did. She was just copying whatever she could.

“Still,” one of the girls said as they copied my homework, “I’m only more interested in talking to the new girl now.”

“I know, right?” the other girl agreed.

It would’ve been nice if that were the end of all the transfer student talk. It wasn’t. Throughout the rest of the morning girls in my classes kept gushing over the new girl. It was tiring to listen to. It was made worse by the fact that most of these girls hadn’t had a single conversation with the person in question.

The couple of girls that did talk to her were reportedly rejected hard. For some reason this only embolden the other girls. The new girl was unwittingly turning herself into some sort of contest prize. I wasn’t sure if I envied her or pitied her. She’d be the center of attention until one of these cliques managed to get her to join their group.

Aside from all the new girl talk it turned out to be a fairly average morning. Without getting too confident, the day was actually turning out better than I expected. With the exception of the two girls from homeroom no one had talked to me all day, which was a good thing in my case. Days I went unnoticed were the days I could relax on. Then my luck came to an abrupt end in the middle of history class.

My math teacher, Ms. Foster, opened the door and stepped in. Mr. Hudson stopped his lecture mid-sentence. I wondered why she would be dropping by at such a random time and then I remembered something. The two girls that cheated off me in homeroom must’ve been caught! Suddenly I felt incredibly nervous. Ms. Foster’s eyes locked onto me after scanning the classroom. I knew I was doomed. She looked over at Mr. Hudson.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your class Mr. Hudson. May I take Holly Hayfield from your class? I need her help with something.” Ms. Foster asked and pointed me out.

“Sure. Go ahead, Holly. Your homework today is page one-hundred eight in the textbook. Do those questions and turn it in tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I said as I stood up.

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The whole class watched awkwardly as I gathered my things and stood up. My walking pace slowed as I came closer and closer to the door. Ms. Foster had a friendly smile on her face but I imagined that would change as soon as we stepped out into the hallway. We walked out into the hallway together and she closed the door behind me gently. This would be my first time ever getting in trouble for cheating so I wasn’t sure what to expect. She stepped back from the door and continued to smile kindly.

“You’re one of my best students so I wanted to come to you with this. I hope you don’t mind.” She said.

Was this her way of softening the incoming blow?

“This is our new transfer student, Samantha Quinn. She hasn’t had time to learn the school layout. I’d like you to escort her to the cafeteria. Can you do that for me? I’ve got to get ready for an off-campus meeting.” Ms. Foster said.

This was a relief to hear, even though she wasn’t making any sense.

“Okay, but where is she?” I asked.

“What are you talking about? She’s right here.” She said and raised her left hand up to an empty space of air.

Ms. Foster looked behind her to see that the transfer student was missing. She turned a full circle like a dog chasing its tail.

“Well that’s odd… She was standing right behind me just before I stepped into the classroom.”

Ms. Foster looked down at her wristwatch.

“Sorry Holly, but I really have to go. You mind finding her and taking her to the cafeteria? I’ll give you extra credit on your next homework assignment.”

Ms. Foster was already walking away before I had time to say anything.

“Leave it to me.” I said, not that she heard me as she dashed away.

This was one of those times I needed to put on my imaginary detective hat and seriously use my brain. Judging by the fact that Ms. Foster didn’t see Samantha as she ran off then it was safe to assume she ran off behind her. That was my lead. I could follow Samantha’s most likely movements with deductive reasoning. This new student didn’t know how cryptic the interior of this old school building was. She’d have limited options.

Ms. Foster had left me in a T hallway. My history class was in the middle part of this T hallway, close to the intersection. The hallway to the right led back to Ms. Foster’s class, and it was also the general direction the cafeteria was in. If Samantha went that way then she wouldn’t need me to take her. She’d bump into Ms. Foster again or eventually find the cafeteria herself. That left me with the hall to the left.

This particular hallway was a main hallway that joined with many others. She could’ve gone down any one of them. At the end of the hall there was a door leading to the outside. Was it possible she went out there to avoid detection by Ms. Foster on her way back? That’d be the smart thing to do if she wanted to avoid detection by anyone altogether. That was what I was going to base my assumptions on. Feeling somewhat confident, I strode over to the door at the end of the hall and walked through.

There she was. She was blonde with short hair that was buzzed on one side. She was wearing a dark-gray beanie cap with much of her hair held up in it. Her school uniform was a mess. The uniform’s cardigan was tied around her waist and the wrinkled up dress shirt was several buttons open, revealing both bra and cleavage. She was holding a bottle of spray paint, vandalizing the outside wall. Naturally my mind began to draw certain conclusions about this person. That was until she looked at me. The look she gave me changed my mind. The look she gave me was almost puppy-like, not the aggressive look of a delinquent.

“What do you want?” She asked hotly.

My imaginary detective hat was still on. For better or worse, my fight or flight response system had developed a personality-detector as a necessary adaption to my harsh environment. The mixed vibes I was getting from her piqued my interest. The tone of her voice was the thing that stood out the most. That was the most forced aggression I had ever heard in such an interrogation.

My experience dealing with Black Brittney’s gang practically made me an expert in reading levels of aggression in people. This girl’s voice had the sound of someone who was faking it. Her voice had a bit of tremble behind it, almost as if she were scared. Scared of me? Impossible! This was the sound of someone still trying to adjust to her new surroundings. My eyes drifted away from her to look at what she was doing.

She had painted an image on the wall with her can of pink spray paint. What the image was I wouldn’t be able to guess in a million years. She wasn’t good, not even decent. She was painting too small, too close. She had applied too much spray paint in a single spot. So much in fact that it was leaking down, making the image impossible to make out. She was new at this. Again, this was something she was faking.

“Are you deaf? I’ll ask you one more time. What is it you want from me?”

Her voice was more stable after having a moment of self-reinforcement. My eyes returned to her. She glared at me as I looked into her eyes. She wanted to look tough but she was so pretty that it was hard to be intimidated. Furthermore her glare only drew my attention to the fact that she was wearing high quality makeup. The fact that she was so pretty wasn’t an accident. She was quite concerned with her looks. The more I examined her hairstyle the more I began to believe that this was a new look for her.

Her question went unanswered. She began to turn away from me, but there was something I wanted to test. I reached out to her and ever so slightly touched the side of her head where her hair was shaved short. She furiously turned around and grabbed hold of my wrist. The look on her face was like she was glowing with rage, and yet she did nothing. She simply looked at me with a mix of anger and confusion.

I confirmed two things. The first thing was confirmation of the theory that this was a new haircut for her. The second thing was the fact that she wasn’t a delinquent at all. A typical delinquent would hit first and asked questions later. Instead, she held me carefully by the wrist. Even the angry look in her eyes was dying out, replaced totally by confusion.

“You don’t belong here, do you?” I asked her.

Her eyes widened at the questioned. This question came as an utter shock to her. She was so dumbfounded that she was as speechless as I was a moment ago. Then, after a moment, came her self-reinforcement. She dropped my wrist and turned away from me.

She reaffirmed her grip on the bottle of spray paint and began painting. She was just going to continue her horrible painting as if I wasn’t there. She just regarded me as a pest, like a gnat. This wasn’t a question she wanted to face, after all. She was incredibly easy to read.

“Why are you acting out?”

This was a far more aggressive approach on my end. She immediately dropped her bottle of spray paint and grabbed me by the collar of my uniform. She jerked me close to her, so close in fact that her forehead was nearly touching mine as she glared at me. If this were Candace or Valentina I’d be shaking in my shoes, but this girl just didn’t have that aura. Maybe it was risky of me to test her like this, but that risk increasingly seemed to be non-existent.

From this close I could see the indecision in her eyes up close and personal. As scary as she wanted to seem it just wasn’t getting through. I put my hands onto her hand that held me. Her eyes softened at the touch. I made sure to keep my expression as blank as possible.

“This isn’t you, is it?”

“What the HELL do you know about me?”

“For starters, this is a new look for you isn’t it?”

She pulled back away from me. Her eyes averted away from mine. I could tell she was giving her response some thought.

“This might be the first time I had my hair cut like this but I…”

“You’ve never done spray painting before, have you?” I asked, pointing at the image behind her.

She turned and looked back at it. She released me and picked up the bottle of spray paint.

“I’m a little rusty but it isn’t my first time.”

“A little rusty would be putting it gently.”

“Why don’t you go somewhere else?”

“That’s funny. I was going to say the same to you.”

“What?”

I pointed at her alien graphic on the wall.

“You’re not going to get in trouble for this. None of the teachers are going to investigate to find the person that did this. You won’t even be recognized by our fellow students for this, except for maybe a passing laugh. No one cares.”

Samantha stared at me deeply, then back at her graphic. She shook the bottle of spray paint.

“Are you saying it’s that bad?” She asked earnestly.

“It’s bad, but that’s not why. There are a lot of students at this school that do the same thing. It always goes unpunished.”

She looked at me with an eyebrow arched to gauge if I was joking. She stepped back and scanned the wall, likely looking for more graffiti.

“Ah, it isn’t here. Anything that goes up here will get cleaned up eventually. There’s one main thing you have to understand about this school. The administration staff only cares about surface level appearances. You see, this part of the exterior can be seen by drivers on the road if they look hard enough. Anyone who wants their work to stick does it on the other side of the building.”

“You’re for real?”

“I am. If you’re worried about fitting in here, don’t worry. I’ve heard some of my classmates talking about you. Just pick a group you like and join up with them. With looks like yours you’ll do fine here.”

“I don’t care about that sort of thing.”

“I disagree. You’re so beautiful that you draw an extraordinary amount of attention to yourself. You could have come here with no make-up, a boring haircut, and a bad smell like a lot of the girls here. Instead you went above and beyond.”

She stared at me intently.

“Do you always psychoanalyze people when you first meet them? You must not have many friends.”

I laughed whole heartedly because she didn’t realize how right she was. She watched me laugh without a smile herself. She just looked at me like I was an idiot. After considering that, I realized how this must’ve looked from her perspective. I had to calm myself down. I wiped a tear away from my eye.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t had such a good laugh in a long time. The funny thing is that you’re right. I am like that. I have absolutely no friends at all. Your psychoanalysis of me was better than my psychoanalysis of you.”

She grinned.

“You’re joking. A girl as cute as you is bound to have a few friends at least.”

“Haha! Nope, I’m the lowest of the low here! I don’t have a single person that I can call my friend. This school year hasn’t been going well for me. I’ve been bullied, harassed, or abused just about every day.”

The grin vanished from her face and she frowned. She looked genuinely troubled to hear that. I forgot for a moment that my world would probably be unsettling to a girl like this. Suddenly the need to make amends arose when I saw just how pained she looked by my offhand comments. An awkward moment of silence arose between us. I smiled painfully and scratched the back of my head.

“Listen, forget what I just said. You won’t have to put up with that sort of thing. My situation is different. Like I said before, just join a group and you’ll be fine.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s sad. What’s your name?”

“My name is Holly Hayfield. I…”

“Holly! You’re the one Ms. Foster was talking about introducing me to. Sorry I ran off. I just wanted some time alone.”

“It’s okay. You’re new here so I can understand that you’re having difficulties.”

“It’s not like that. A lot has been happening lately and I needed some space. My name is Samantha Quinn. Just call me Sam.”

“Okay Sam. Sorry if I came off as obnoxious just now. It’s like you said, I tend to overthink people.”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize. You were supposed to be helping me after all.”

“I was supposed to help you find the cafeteria. The lunch bell should be ringing any minute.”

“I’m not hungry. Instead, there’s something else I want you to help me find.”

She pointed upwards to a part of the school that overlooked much of the school property.

“You want to go up to the rooftop?” I asked.